


North

by The_Dark_Forest_King



Series: Strange Magic AU Darkly, Through the Forest: The Feylands [1]
Category: Butterfly Bog - Fandom, Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe Strange Magic (2015), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 17:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Dark_Forest_King/pseuds/The_Dark_Forest_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you spin the wind-rose Star, be very careful where you walk on the journey it takes you.  </p>
<p>Strange Magic AU tale based on the head canon of the movie written by Darklysong and illustrated by Greenmut for their fan collaboration "Darkly, Through the Forest: the Feylands".</p>
            </blockquote>





	North

You heard the tales and made a choice. There is only you and the Path.  
Many have traveled its long and winding way: kings, miller’s daughters, mercenaries, thieves, lost children, human, elf, faerie, goblin, were creatures, more than I can say, or describe in with my feeble words.

The Path is hard and steep. Each step is like a betrayal; knife-edged and full of sleep as if waking in forgotten dream. 

In the haze of shade and musky dampness that tickles the nose,below the canopy of a deep, dark forest,

lies The Feylands …

It is every hue of the peacock’s eye: emerald, amethyst, sapphire; full of mystery and life, tragedy and mirth.

It is where Faerie princesses fly in search of adventure; where Goblins march under a Cheshire moon grin;  
and a thief will steal your eyelashes before your mind knows its shadow has been taken.

In the midnight depths of the Dark Forest, stories tell of the remains of the once proud and powerful court of the Night Fairies. In a chamber, long forgotten by time and hidden by the whispers of ghosts, is a bone dry basin and in that lays a wheeled four-pointed Star, that once graced the crown of the moon prince who married the fairest in the Goblin Court, who gambled her jeweled eyes to the forgotten gods for the gift of prophecy that drove her mad. 

The moon prince mourned the lost of his real love and no longer want this jewel beyond price and gave it to the Night Fairies for safe keeping.The Star was forged then in the fires of heaven, then beaten by the hammer of Salamander King, until the Star flattened, each ray towards a point on each horizon, but no matter how it was tossed, floated, turned, or spun, it’s true point always landed North. 

The Night Fairies built a special place of honor for their treasure and named it the wind-rose Star. Many came to see this wonder and many paid in blood for trying to take it beyond its new home. For no matter who stole it or took it with the blessing of the Night Fairie King, this magical lodestone ALWAYS found its way back home to its mother of pearl basin, to its true North.

If you dare to know the depths of your soul and spin the Star; follow these Rules:  
Fill the basin with water only you have carried.  
Allow the wind-rose to turn thrice round, freely of its own  
Do not seek to change the course, for whatever magic is left in halls  
will float the enchanted lodestone point North, South, East, West or betwixt  
then towards Your Heart’s Desire. 

Where it points to on your Path, follow it!  
Though the way be dark and treacherous, it will lead you straight and true.  
That is one truth you must be brave enough to risk.

A cautionary word to those who chosen to travel the Path:

Follow the Rules. 

What … don’t know them …?  
Now … that is a riddle wrapped in a conundrum that must solved in its own time …  
an enigma waiting as the djinn inside a mottled lamp.

There are many Rules, more than there are stars in the night sky, but remember them  
for it is easy to get lost, but the Heart ..now that’s a fickle and fragile thing,  
will steer a true course … if it is worthy. But here are the truths I learned on my journeys.

Leave a gift on Path.  
Understand that a dream may not be the best course if wanting means more having.  
Never trust an ice drake for they are made of Stillness and only seek to trick you of your shadow.  
Nothing not even a god can break a fairy ring if cast by Hand and Heart.  
Remember that everything comes at a price.  
Hands cut deepest in the worst folly.  
Oath breaker is a fate worse than death.  
And even The Moonlight Gardens will shun all who tread thus.  
Scars unseen hide the most beautiful and are the lathe of the Soul.  
Magic is not free.  
Remember your Name.  
Cast out all fear.  
And … do not … let IT …overeat.  
Take only what you Need.

Oh… you’re going to give a try … good luck  
Where the wind-rose Star takes you is anyone’s guess  
be it a weighted lodestone point North, to the land of ice drakes,  
where treasure are guarded by the Keeper …

…. a tilt East to the Fairy Kingdoms, a land of Golden Light,  
prismatic jeweled in magic blessed by Feylands

…. perhaps a touch of exotic is more to your liking as the wind-rose glides…

… South to the lands of sand and stone, scimitars and silk, where no rain falls from incandescent skies but must be bought with blood and sweat.

Or … let’s see … hmmm interesting …

the Path is showing that you have a taste for the mysterious,

the unknown …

the tip of the needle points West …

.. The Dark Forest, a land as rich as Southern coffee, thick and oily as it smooths over the tongue

…. well best of luck …  
you have chosen a … difficult Path,  
rewarding if you seek where you find and find what you Seek.

Now off with you; others have needs, our time is precious … go and find Her.

For She can guide you better than I. …..

The Path is easier now … footfall as soft as snow, a light in the distance beckons thus, beckons to all the come in search of Her, the Storyteller. 

… the inn is now in sight. 

Wipe your feet, hang your cloak, get a warm ale cup.

Here in the late evening, wrapped in a cosy warmth by a marigold hearth is Dusk, yarn spinner,  
mistress of a thousand battles, teller of ten thousands tales, lady of infinite curses. Beguiling, lovesome, vexing, tempestuous.

A cacophony of tiny voices laugh and tumble towards the hearth behind them the adults, drinking and conversing.

“All right brats, settled down, or there won’t be any story.”

Her voice is stern, but the little ones know better and flock around her and the hearth like crows on autumn corn. A small assorted group of children – faerie, goblin, naga, elf – form a lopsided half moon at the edge of the warmth. The fire sputter embers, snaps and knuckle bone crackles that make her listeners blink up as she passes around a bowl of sweets. 

Little hands greedily tuck into the offered gift and it’s a temptation to eat more than one, but the children know better. The confections are wrapped in waxy leaf wrap and when eaten are honeyed milk and pumpkin cream. A goblin youth licks the empty wrapping with gusto much to the disgust of young faerie girl, who folds her leaf wrap with care; for these will be burned in the hearth as an offering to Noctura and their dreams will be filled with toys and laughter.

The Faerie woman with dark lapsis eyes and tucked butterfly wings of blue and black, plops down in chair and runs a swarthy hand through her silver hair, contemplating. She has the grace of a preening hawk and eyes that shine like summer lightning. Her face is neither old nor young with a beauty that one would find roped behind spider silk cords in the Museum of Giants, where artifacts are displayed as a cautionary tales to faerie creatures, who roam pass the Border, where the humans dwell.

“What shall I tell tonight?” A dusky finger curled a wisp behind her pointed ear.

“I want to hear the story of the Princess and the Swamp Knight,” a little bee-winged faerie girl cried.

“No, tell me of the beast the guards the icy treasures!” a goblin lad bounced to his knees, “tell me of King Taldraxx and Lady Lyris, who tricked it out of his most precious treasure that Lyris gave to Dagda as a wedding gift!”

“We know!” the twin nagas hissed in unison, “ the ssstory of the Princessss and The Bog King. We love that one.” Their scaly tails vibrated with excitement. It was their first time at the Bell and Whistle Inn and they wanted to hear the very first story that every faerie child was told on the knee of their parents but lacking legs … these half fairy half serpent children were content with her own scaled lower bodies curled around each other like sleepy kittens. 

“We’ve heard that story a thousand times!” a crow winged Fae youth grimaced at the sprout-lings. A storm cloud in his smirk as he said, “We know it by word.”

“Make up your minds then,” the Faerie lady, shrugged, “I have to get to the Dark Forest tonight and tell King his bed time stories or he gets very cranky.”

“You don’t know the Bog King!” the crow-wing challenged. “You never even been to the Palace!”

There was sudden quiet as wings of sapphire and onyx flared to attention with an audible SNAP! Yellow eye-spots flashed in their iridescent scales at the troublesome tengu lad. “Would you like to tell the story?”

The lad blinked at the fiery display and bit back his words in his throat.

“Then, please, shut your beak and let me begin!” Her wings folded as she pondered for a heart beat …. “Ahhh I know … this story was told to me when I was a sprogling on my grandsire’s knee …”

Once upon a time in a land far and away where the first Once Upon a Time was ever spoken …

there …was dark winged noble Faerie lady with hair the color of spun sunbeams,  
a foolish but brave Goblin King that sold his soul for magical forged carapace that he though would protect him Love,  
a potion maker that was sealed in prison of her own making, and young and nimble Elf girl, who wanted to see the world, and a Heart of Fire that bond them forever as stalwart and true Companions …

…….. you choose to leave? Not in the mood for stories, eh. 

You have gypsy feet, my friend.

Go in peace and no matter where The Path takes you, remember:  
that wind-rose Star will always point North and guide you Home when your feet are weary or if you need a place by a marigold heath to warm the night from your bones,  
Or a quite place to sit as companions do. 

Price? Oh you were listening! … oh perhaps ...

..a green leaf folded hawk, a snippet of song, story,  
or a dance that sets musicians to play;  
tender all legally sent in the name of the heart is accepted. 

If you choose to set off again along the Path and your travels lead you to find  
the wind-rose Star of Night Fairies in the Hall of Shadow and Thorns … 

Fill the basin with water; that only you have carried and let Rose of the Wind guide your steps.

It is up to you, where North is.

**Author's Note:**

> Darkly, Through the Forest presents: a Strange Magic AU tale of the Feylands
> 
> Dedicated with love to young seekers and old geezers alike!  
> May you find your True North and may it bring you Joy. 
> 
> In memory of T. A. Doyle 1985-2015: who was there with me when we first beheld the wind-rose Star that guided us to The Feylands. 
> 
> You were part of my journey. Thank you.


End file.
